


Prucan -Old Men Soul Mates

by celestialenigma



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Old Men, Soulmates, hungary - Freeform, mentions: - Freeform, oldtalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialenigma/pseuds/celestialenigma
Summary: Soulmate AU in which all of the members of your OTP+ are widow(er)s, all having been married to spouses other than their soulmates, when they meet in a nursing home/convalescent hospital. As patients. PRUCAN





	Prucan -Old Men Soul Mates

**Author's Note:**

> http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/159551600712/soulmate-au-in-which-all-of-the-members-of-your
> 
> Notes: Not super long but the prompt was cute and I wanted to do something for it.

Gilbert Beilschmidt allowed the double doors of the large building to be opened for him. It wasn’t as though he actually needed the help or anything, he just knew that it made his daughter feel better to have something to do. When he entered the place he strode inside. He most definitely did not hobble, his cane was an accessory that increased his awesomeness. It’s handle was in the shape of a dragon and the stick was metal with scales carved into it’s surface.

Gilbert ignored the quad-tipped base that he totally didn’t need to support him.

His daughter walked to the front desk and waited for somebody to come and help her. Gilbert stood beside her and pointedly looked away from her. 

“Vati,” said his daughter gently, “Vati I’m so sorry. I don’t want this any more than you do.”

Gilbert didn’t say anything but stuck out his lower lip ever so slightly.

“I know I’ve told you this already but I really need you to know, I’d have you at home if I could. I can’t lift you when you fall or help you in and out of the tub. I tried to be home whenever I could but it wasn’t always possible.”

He heard his daughter tap her fingers along the white counter of the front desk and she sighed, “I always worried about you but after your stroke? It just isn’t safe to have you at home by yourself and I can’t be around 24 hours a day.”

He made the decision to look over and saw his daughter hang her head and bite her lower lip. There was a sheen on wetness in her eyes. Gilbert cursed at himself for being such an idiot and put his hand on her shoulder as he looked at her entirely black and white visage. She smiled at him and looked into his eyes, which he’d always been told was a striking shade of red. 

Gilbert wouldn’t know. He’d never met his soul-mate and had never had the colour come flooded into his vision.

“Ja, I know. I’m sorry, I was being childish,” said Gilbert and grinned from ear to ear, “I’m sure that this will be great!”

His daughter looked like she didn’t quite believe him but a receptionist had approached right after and distracted his daughter. Gilbert clenched onto the handle of his cane and glared around at himself.

This was going to be terrible.

#

As soon as Gilbert had been taken to his room and his daughter had brought his belongings into his new room, thankfully he didn’t have a room-mate, and he’d spent the rest of the day moping. Of course he’d kept up the façade of acceptance until his daughter left. He knew she’d meant well and had just been worried. That didn’t mean that he had to like it.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, a former army officer, was in a nursing home.

To say that he was pissed was an understatement. 

However, that morning, Gilbert had an idea. The staff had refused him a beer at supper the night before, and refused him a beer in the morning. Gilbert, in turn, refused to eat in the dining room for both meals. It was only while nibbling on a piece of toast that he had the idea that he could just leave and get his own beer. 

He’d survived fighting in battles, knee-deep in mud, a bullet wound in his shoulder, still barking orders to his subordinates. He’d survived his abusive childhood and had raised his little brother Ludwig. He’d survived being married to his childhood friend, Erzsébet and survived the subsequent parenthood. He’d survived her death ten years previous, which had still hurt deeply even though she wasn’t his soul mate.

There was no way that he couldn’t sneak out.

So Gilbert slung on a thick sweater that he didn’t need, since it was almost summer. He just liked to wear it because his grand-daughter had knit it for him. That’s all. Gilbert certainly didn’t get chilly. He grabbed his cane and peeked out of his room. All of the staff was turned away from him or walking in the opposite direction. Good. Time to move. 

He made his way down the carpet and towards a sitting area that he’d been shown by the nurses and his daughter. Sitting wasn’t what he had planned though. What he wanted was to escape through the sliding glass doors.

“Mr. Beilschmidt?” said a chipper voice behind him of a nurse, “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

Expression remaining neutral so as to not give away his plans, Gilbert slowly turned and said, “Ja, just hoping for a book and a sunny place to sit.”

He gestured to the sun roof in the room and then to the books.

“Great choice. Just remember that if you need any help at all to press one of these buttons right here,” the nurse said, as if Gilbert wouldn’t remember to press one of the buttons placed every five feet in the place. 

He resisted the urge to scowl and grinned, wide and probably showing his teeth. All still his natural ones thank you!

“Danke.”

“I’ll be back later to see how you are doing okay?”

And with that the nurse just about skipped away.

Gilbert rolled his eyes and kept walking, going out of the door and outside. He’d just need to find a way to leave the premises without the guards catching him and thinking that he was wandering away, senile. He wasn’t that old anyway. He was barely 79.

His plans began to crumble when he realized that the walls around the building and the rather large lawn, complete with trees and a gazebo, were tall. They were made of stone and had ivy crawl over their surface. It was actually really nice and Gilbert wished, not for the first time, that he could see colour.

Going over to the wall, ignoring the pond he saw which contained ducks he would for sure feed bread later, he pulled at the vines.

“Scheiße. I’ll never be able to climb these,” said Gilbert, forgetting to keep his voice low so that the prison wardens wouldn’t hear him.

That was when he heard a gasp from behind him and groaned. Trust a nurse to think he was doing something stupid and run to catch him. 

Gilbert turned while he said, “Look I’m just touching the plants to see what they feel like. I’m for sure not going to climb the wall to get-”

His words stopped in his throat and his jaw dropped as colour flooded into his vision for the first time in his life. Sitting on a bench that he’d previously overlooked near the pond, was a man of around his own age. The man had silver hair in silky curls around his face. His eyes were a beautiful colour that drew Gilbert in, made him walk closer, enough that the tips of his fingers ran over those soft cheeks. The man leaned into Gilbert’s touch.

Then the man spoke, voice like a whisper on the wind, “I thought that I would never meet you.”

“You can say that again,” replied Gilbert with a grin that he knew probably looked dopey. 

He didn’t care.

Instead he sat down on the bench beside the man and once more said, “God you’re beautiful.”

“I’m not sure I’d use those words for somebody old and wrinkly like myself,” said the man, “You, however, are handsome and don’t even look as if you belong here.”

“Danke! That’s what I’d tried to tell my daughter but you have one little stroke…” said Gilbert, trailing off when he saw the horrified look on his soul mate’s eyes and added, “I’m healthy now, she just worries about me.”

“ And you are damn beautiful so don’t let me hear you say otherwise,” said Gilbert, “I’m Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt.”

The man beamed and placed a hand onto Gilbert’s knee, “I’m Matthew Williams and it’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

Gilbert pressed a gentle kiss onto his soul mate’s face and then grabbed a slice of bread from Matthew’s lap and began to break it into crumbs. He then threw them to the birds which waddled over to peck them up. Matthew shuffled closer and the two of them began to exchange life stories. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here after all.


End file.
